These Two Lanes Will Take Us Anywhere
by lizook
Summary: It's not that they're lost. They're really not and they both know it; it's that they're late.


**Spoilers/Timeline**: None/Set in the future

**A/N**: Much love to my latest Suits recruit for her incredible excitement towards this concept.

**Disclaimer**: Suits doesn't belong to me. Title from Bruce Springsteen's _Thunder Road_.

* * *

She's going to lose it. Of all the goddamn places for it to _finally_ happen, she wouldn't have picked in the middle of a road trip to upstate New York, but there it is, he's pushed her to the limit.

Five hours in a car will do that to you.

Especially when you should have arrived, unpacked, and been munching on homemade pie two hours ago.

Inhaling sharply, she glances out the window, clenches her jaw as another sign for route thirty goes blurring by.

It's not that they're lost. They're really not and they both know it; it's that they're late.

Beyond late, which she hates as a general rule, but it's driving her particularly crazy today.

Because she knows these roads, knows all the short cuts and bypasses, but he insists—insists in that maddening, no arguing with, way he has—on following the GPS.

And it's not like she hasn't been stuck in a car with him before. This isn't the first or even the third trip they've taken together. But they're going to see her family for the first time since they've been... well, _them_...

It's terrifying and wonderful and fills her with a strange almost hysterical excitement. Because her family has always loved him. Her dad especially had gotten along well with him, though there had been that nightmare of a Thanksgiving where he'd asked some pointed questions without really going after her or Harvey. Why that would change now she didn't know, she just wanted to get there and get it over with.

Like going for a tetanus shot: close your eyes and hope for the best.

She presses her lips together, grabs the door handle as they go whipping around a tight corner. Rolling her eyes, she relaxes against her seat once more as he grins at her before looking back to the road. It's a good thing he usually has Ray to drive because this has to be at least the third time she's thrown thoughts up to a higher being since they'd left the city.

(He liked going fast, this was nothing new. The reckless abandon though...

And as crazy as it sounded, she actually liked seeing it. That he let his guard down so completely around her, that it wasn't him spinning out of control, simply just enjoying being in the moment for a change.)

The Who's blasting, the top of the car down causing the wind to whip her hair into her face every ten minutes or so, the sun flickering in through the tall trees around them. Even without the direct exposure she can feel the back of her neck growing warm and she briefly wishes her sunscreen wasn't locked in the trunk.

But, really, they should be there by now.

"You know..." She turns in her seat, hair streaming out behind her in the change of air current. "It probably would have been faster to take a covered wagon."

"We're almost there, Sacagawea."

"You said that twenty minutes ago."

He just shrugs in response, the lift at the corner of his mouth giving him away.

"Who am I to argue with technology though? I just grew up here, spent many nights parked on back roads with Spencer Fredi—"

"Spencer?!" His brow furrows and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from completely losing it. A long moment passes, his fingers flexed against the steering wheel before she lets him off the hook.

"Relax, he was my best friend and we were deer spotting."

His shoulders fall, eyes brighten and he struggles to keep any emotion out of his voice as he makes a left. There's something warming about the image, natural about it. Donna perched on the roll bar of a Jeep, taking in the wonders of nature. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

"I think that's what they were calling it then." She lets out a laugh, flinching as she swats away a fly that has landed on her arm.

Even out of the corner of his eye notices, the slight deflation in her tone, the way her skin goes white before flushing pink. He down shifts and starts rummaging in the door. "You should have told me to stop so you could get your bag out of the trunk."

"And not get home until next week? It's fine, it's not the first time I've been a little pink from the sun. I'll just have to take a cold shower tonight and—"

"Put some aloe on?" His eyebrow lifts in what can only be described as cocky pride as he reaches across the console and presses the small green bottle he'd stashed in the door into her hand. His fingers linger a moment, brushing across her palm before sweeping lightly over arm and returning to the wheel as he finally—_finally_—turns onto her parents' street. Shaking her head, she smiles at the relaxed grin on his face, the happiness in his eyes they pull into the drive, and opens the bottle.


End file.
